


Underground

by verucasalt123



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Confusion, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Sexual Fantasy, Souled Spike, Souled Vampire(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 08:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7353382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley knows exactly what the hell he’s doing here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underground

More than anything, Wesley wants to ask himself what the hell he’s doing here. In Los Angeles, there is a long, long list of things he should be doing right now. Today. His phone had rung so much after he left that he’d turned it off less than an hour into the drive. 

Not that he isn’t going to have to find a way to explain his absence at some point, but he can’t think about that in this moment. The point is, he knows exactly what the hell he’s doing here.

Sometimes he’s awed by how much manages to get done in Sunnydale, considering that Buffy and her friends still seem like children. How easily he’d ended up standing here, in the basement of the school, within yards of Spike, who appears to be completely unprotected - for all of the good they do, these kids can be incredibly stupid.

Spike probably doesn’t know who he is. Hasn’t realized that Wes is even there yet.

Wesley’s fascination with Spike has been brewing for a good while. He’d stayed in touch with Rupert, of course, so he knows pretty much everything that has been happening in Sunnydale over the past couple of years. From afar, Spike had somehow become the object of Wesley’s darkest and most erotic fantasies. Knowing full well he should keep it that way, Wes moves closer to the clearly impaired vampire, unable to resist the urge to close the distance.

He freezes in his tracks when Spike’s head snaps up. 

“That’s a new one. What now? Couldn’t leave me alone for one day?”

Realizing he hasn’t thought this through anywhere near as much as he should have, Wesley responds, “I haven’t been here, Spike. Got here just now.” He thinks he might be just as confused at Spike. He should have planned this better, gotten more information before driving here on a whim. “Has anyone else been here? Anyone except Buffy?”

Spike laughs a little, and his eyes get just a bit more focused. “Buffy was real. You’re not - are you real?” He doesn’t give Wes an opportunity to reply before he shakes his head and whispers to himself, “Not real. Stupid. Wouldn’t even know I was here”, then looks back up. “Don’t know why you look like that now. Can’t you just let me be?”

Wes moves again, stepping close enough to touch, close enough for Spike to touch him, knowing it’s dangerous before he even sees the stained knife on the floor. He crouches down so they’re eye level, and Wesley still has nothing useful to say because he’s got no bloody idea what’s happening in Spike’s head. His only assumption is that Spike must have been hallucinating. 

“I’m not anything...I’m - it’s just me. What have you got that knife for? Is someone trying to hurt you? Something trying to hurt you?”

“Can’t do anything to me if you’re not real. Can’t do anything to hurt you if you are.”

Wesley remembers, of course; the Initiative chip. God, Rupert would never have told him all of this if he’d known the consequences. Not that Wesley doesn’t have other sources of information. “I’m not going to hurt you, and I don’t think you’re going to hurt me”, he says, just as Spike goes for the knife. It barely scratches the surface of Wesley’s skin before Spike drops it and cries out in pain.

“Bollocks!”, Spike bellows, then looks again at Wes with his eyes even more clear. “What the hell are you doing here? Angel send you to report on me? See how it’s killing me, how much harder it is for me than it was for him? Good job, then. Tell him to sod off and worry about his own damned soul.”

A hundred thoughts go through Wesley’s mind all at once. “Angel doesn’t know I’m here. I just wanted to see-”, he stops himself from saying _see you_ , “So it’s true then? Your soul?”

Spike casts his eyes downward. “Bugger off. It was a mistake, all right? I never knew this is how I would feel after...now I have it, I don’t want it...why the hell am I telling you anything? You’ll go straight back to Angel and tell him everything and next thing I know the tosser’ll show up here himself to taunt me. What the hell, let him come, at least I can hurt _him_.”

Even as his hands are moving, Wesley’s brain is screaming at him to back away. He can’t do it, though. He doesn’t stop until his hand is laying gently against Spike’s forearm. Spike looks terrified. “You said you weren’t going to hurt me”, he whispers, sounding defeated. 

“I’m not. I swear. All I wanted was…” Wesley’s not exactly sure how to end that sentence. All of a sudden, he really doesn’t know what he thinks coming here is going to accomplish. 

And then Spike lifts his eyes again, that beautiful blue that Wes had seen in so many dreams and fantasies. Wesley can’t stop himself now. He places his other hand on Spike’s cheek and leans in to place a tentative, soft kiss right onto Spike’s lips.

Spike freezes and Wes pulls away to see those blue eyes have turned hard and cold.

“What the hell are you playing at, Watcher?” His voice is just as vicious as Wesley’s ever heard it. 

His heart sinks, but again, what the hell _is_ he playing at? What kind of reaction did he expect? He’s got to get the fuck out of here before someone finds out he’s come. Try to come up with a cover story for where he’s been. Hope to every deity in the universe that Spike is going to think this really is a hallucination. 

There’s nothing for it, instinctively Wes backs off and starts apologizing profusely and not very eloquently. “I’m sorry, Spike, I am so, so sorry, I didn’t - I mean, I’m not - shit...I’ll go, I’ll go right now-”

As he’s stumbling backward, trying to get up on his feet and turn around, he’s interrupted. 

“Wait!”

Tentatively, Wesley looks back and sees that Spike’s eyes have softened and his demeanor is clearly more open, though his voice is very, very soft. Like he’s admitting a horrific sin, Spike whispers, “I’m lonely here. Don’t go. Not yet. I don’t want to talk, I only want to rest. Can you just stay a bit while I rest?”

Wes manages to nod his head through his shock at Spike’s words. He’s got no idea what he’s going to do if Buffy shows up while he’s here, but Spike’s just asked him to stay. Maybe they’ve got different motivations, but Wesley can admit to himself that he’s not strong enough to walk away when Spike actually wants him here. 

Sending a quick text with a flimsy excuse about research and an assurance of his safety, Wes moves so he’s sitting right next to Spike with his back against the wall. Spike sighs, then lets his head fall onto Wesley’s shoulder. Wes takes one of Spike’s hands in his, and gets no argument. 

And they sit, Wesley trying desperately to keep from trembling from the physical contact, Spike fast asleep the moment his eyes close. 

It’s more than enough.


End file.
